


The Goddess

by vendettadays



Category: Original Work
Genre: Asian Character(s), Bisexual Character, F/F, Japanese Mythology & Folklore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28195704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vendettadays/pseuds/vendettadays
Summary: Aya had gone to bed an owner of three cats the night before. She woke up the next morning to find herself with only two cats and a woman in her bed.
Relationships: Cat Goddess/Woman Who Cares For Stray Cats (F/F), Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12
Collections: Mistletoe Exchange 2020





	The Goddess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silveradept](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveradept/gifts).



So Aya had a problem. It wasn’t exactly a problem she thought she would ever have at the age of twenty-eight years old, but nonetheless, it was a problem now and one that made its presence known on her way home from work. 

‘Shoo! Go away!’ 

The cat stared at her with large, mismatched yellow and blue eyes. Its white fur was matted and in need of a cut. It opened its mouth and meowed, a high pitched mewl that would have caused even the hardest of hearts to wobble. And Aya was an owner of one of those hardest of hearts. Harder than the toughest metal on Earth and absolutely immovable. Her ex-boyfriend-and-still-best-friend had called her unfeeling, though that wasn't the reason she and Andy broke up. They were better as friends, and Andy had found a lovely boyfriend who shared his love for watching the baby animal videos he found on the internet.

Her heart would not wobble at the sight of a cat with wide eyes, rubbing its side against her legs. She would be strong. She would hold her ground. She would not be moved. The cat stretched up on its hind legs, planted its front paws on her knee, and gave a mournful meow. Aya’s chin quivered, her defences crumbling and her heart melted like ice cream in the sun. 

This cat was the problem, one that hadn’t stopped following her since she had left work. She crouched down and ran her hand along its back, palm smoothing fur down to the base of its tail and all the way to the tip. A trilling meow came from the cat and it pushed its head into Aya’s hand affectionately. 

‘That’s a dirty move. You can’t do that to me,’ said Aya with a sigh. The fur on the cat's belly was yellowish and dirtied. It didn’t feel too skinny, but she was no vet and couldn’t tell if it was underweight. ‘I don’t even like cats that much…’

The cat shook its body, fur fluffing up and tail whipping back and forth. Its eyes narrowed, almost as if it was offended by Aya’s words. 

‘Don’t be like that.’ Aya moved her fingers beneath the cat’s chin and scratched, a purr vibrated through the cat and it stretched its neck, eyes closing in content. ‘It doesn’t mean I don't like you.’

The purrs grew louder like an idling engine of a car and Aya smiled as one of the cat’s paws went up to rest on her wrist. With one final scratch of her nails against the cat’s collarless neck, Aya got up and waggled her fingers in goodbye. A ball of guilt started in her chest, growing in size and weight with every step she took down the street. She couldn’t take in another cat. She already had too much going on in her life.

A lonely cry from behind made Aya stop abruptly. Her feet rooted itself to the cracked pavement. She closed her eyes. Her hand clenched into fists. Another meow sounded. Aya whipped around and marched back towards the cat sitting where she had left it. She slowed her pace and relaxed her tense posture as she approached. The cat immediately padded towards her. She bent down and picked it up. 

‘You definitely need a bath,’ commented Aya, nose wrinkling as the cat curled up in her arms and closed its eyes. The cat flicked her nose with its tail. ‘Okay, okay, I get it, you’re sensitive about your looks.’ 

Aya sighed again, one of many sighs of the night, and started home again. This cat had more attitude than a human. 

***

‘Oh, isn’t she a beautiful girl,’ cooed Andy as he walked into the room. The cat sat on top of the metal examination table, regal and poised, its tail curled loosely around itself. ‘You’ve been finding a lot of strays lately.’

Aya shrugged and leaned against the wall. ‘I haven’t found any of them. They’ve found me and for some reason, now live with me.’

‘You could have always taken them to the animal shelter.’ Andy gently lifted the cat’s lips to examine its teeth. ‘This princess would make it like, three cats? You wouldn’t even let me get a goldfish when we were dating.’ 

‘What you wanted was _koi_ and we lived in an apartment,’ corrected Aya. Andy loved to use that argument with her. ‘You know the local shelter is already at capacity.’ 

Even if the shelter could have taken the first stray she had found, Aya could never have brought herself to take Fuku to the shelter. She had found the grey tabby on the side of the road after being hit by a car. The poor thing had gone into Andy’s operating room with four legs and had come out with three. A week later and Aya had gone home with a cat carrier, a bag of cat food, and a pet she never expected to own. Not two months later and Aya was the owner of another stray, a black cat she’d named Kuro. 

‘You’re becoming quite the cat lady,’ joked Andy, a wide grin on his face. ‘This might be the universe telling you to start dating again.’

Aya rolled her eyes and shook her head. Her last date hadn’t exactly ended well. The poor woman had rushed out of the cafe before she had even ordered coffee. Her eyes had swollen, nose running at the first hint of cat hair on Aya’s cardigan. ‘Yeah, not happening anytime soon.’

She turned to the snowy cat, its blue and yellow eyes stared back, head cocking to the side as if it was examining _her_ instead. Aya did what she normally did when something stared at her, even if it was a cat. She stared back, brow raised in challenge. 

‘Leave her with me, I’ll make sure she’s all checked out and in top shape when I return her.’

‘Thanks Andy,’ replied Aya. She was reluctant to break eye contact. There was just something about the white cat that didn’t seem quite right to her. It reacted as if it could understand the conversation in the room. A niggling started at the back of her head like a forgotten memory trying to resurface. 

‘Aya?’ 

She looked to Andy who was giving her an odd look. ‘Sorry, I’ll wait in reception.’

As Aya turned to leave, she paused and swore the cat had winked at her. 

***

It started with her bath towels. At least three times a week, Aya would find a used bath towel on the radiator in her bathroom. It hung on the railings neatly, waiting to be washed when she got home from work. Sometimes the damp towel would coincide with the loss of a bath bomb. Sometimes not. Sometimes it was the bath salts her mother had got her for her birthday or the expensive shower gel. Either way, someone was breaking into her apartment to bathe, but she had changed the locks twice, front door and windows included and it was still happening. Building management hadn’t caught anyone unknown coming in and out of the building. 

It was clear enough that something wasn’t right, but Aya brushed it aside as if that was the perfectly normal reaction to have when weird, inexplicable things were happening to her. It was easy to do when inexplicable things had been happening to her for as long as she could remember. As a child, the _kodami_ in the forest behind her grandparents’ house had led her home. A wandering _kappa_ had once found itself without water, stranding itself in her parents’ garden at the height of the summer heat when the pavements of Tokyo could burn bare feet. She had filled the _kappa’s_ water dish and left for school. 

Aya’s move overseas for university then for work had removed her from the spirits of home. There was a surprising lack of spirits in the country she’d moved to. It was probably for the best. She had too much going on in her life, and adding an unruly spirit to the mix would only complicate things more. So when extra bath towels were being used, her bath things disappearing, and even when the cooked chicken in her fridge had been picked clean to the bones, her default position had been to get on with her life. 

A wayward ghost in her apartment who liked to keep clean and eat chicken was a small thing compared to the _yūrei_ back home. Still, it didn’t go unnoticed to her that the oddities to her life had started again with the appearance of her newest cat. 

***

Life went on for Aya even with her newest cat and the apparent appearance of a ghost in her apartment. She went to work, fed the cats, and did much more laundry than she used to. In between the obligations of her day-to-day, she filled every free second by painting. 

The weekend was Aya’s favourite two days of the week for the reason that she could spend all day painting. She shrugged on an oversized, paint-splattered t-shirt and shorts. On her way out of her room, she stroked Fuku on the ear who was draped over the top of her chest of drawers, his single hind leg hanging off the side. She stepped her living-room-converted-art-studio. The living room was the size of her bedroom, bathroom and tiny kitchenette combined. Her building was in a crappy area with too many alleys for her to feel safe walking at home at night, but the cheap rent and large living room had been the deal breaker. 

A cheeky meow followed Aya into her living room-studio. Yuki trotted over the canvas covered floor, dodging playfully between the dots of colourful paint. Aya sat down at her easel and Yuki jumped up, body stretching as she rubbed her head against Aya’s chin before circling and settling into her lap. Aya stroked the back of Yuki's ears, the familiar purrs comforting her. 

An image of a woman rose to mind as she smoothed a hand over Yuki’s fur. She was tall and had white haired that reached below her waist, the ends just hiding the curves of a plump buttom. Her head was turned, different coloured eyes peered over a bare shoulder, a mysterious smile to her pink lips. Aya blinked and the image faded, the feeling of breathlessness stayed and she gasped at the spinning in her head. 

_Meow._ Aya looked down at Yuki and focused on the intensity of her blue and yellow eyes. She breathed in deep and breathed out slow. She ran her hand over Yuki’s fur, taking a moment to reassert herself into the present. The feeling of floating in her thoughts subsided as her senses returned to earth. Her fingers itched to pick up a pencil to draw the sweeping line of the woman’s bare back in a warm up sketch. Could she get the reds and whites just right to bring out the lusciousness of her lips? Did she have the colours to bring the light to life in those different coloured eyes? Was her hand steady enough to capture each thin strand of the eyelashes framing an examining gaze? 

Aya turned to the series of finished paintings propped against the wall and the sofa. She hadn’t done figure painting since university. But her heart sped up at the thought of bringing to life the woman her imagination had created unbidden in her mind. She picked up the pencil from her easel. Careful not to unseat Yuki in her lap, she started a rough sketch on the canvas with broad movements of her arm. Familiarity solidified as the woman took form. She stopped and stared at the figure, throat tight and eyes burning with the threat of tears. An impression began like a handprint, light at first but deepening with every second that passed. The memory was just below below the surface. She sighed in frustration as the memory slipped. 

‘Who are you?’ asked Aya to no one in particular, déjà vu buzzing in her head like Yuki's purrs beneath her palm. 

***

It had been a late night at the office, one spent standing in front of a photocopier compiling court bundles for her boss and the last minute trial schedule for the next morning. It was a night spent not painting, and that hit her harder than the tiredness in her eyes from the copier light and the ache in her shoulders from being hunched over the machine. 

In her tiredness, Aya didn’t notice the footsteps that followed until she was almost home. She was in the last and the longest alley that led the street she lived on. She quickened her pace. The footsteps behind did the same. She looked behind and ice cold fear drenched her body. A large figure followed her, feet speeding up when they noticed her. With her heart in her throat, Aya broke into a run, her ballet flats useless in a sprint as she ran as fast as she could down the last stretch. 

The pounding footsteps stopped as she swung around the corner at the end of the alleyway. Aya stopped. Beyond the rushing of blood in her ears, she heard a loud gurgling cry. Her fear rooted her in place as the cries faded into silence. The sound was unbearably close. Just round the corner. The sensible thing would be for her to turn around, walk away and continue on down the street to her building. Against her better judgement, Aya shuffled slowly and poked her head round the corner of the brick wall. 

A pair of eyes glowed, ethereal and bright in the dark alley. Aya jumped back, pulse spiking and skin prickling from a chill that had nothing to do with the balmy summer night. Whatever those eyes belonged to, it wasn’t the person who had followed her moments ago. Aya swallowed and with her eyes on the opening of the alley, she crept backwards slowly, careful steps moving one after the other. 

A high-pitched meow broke through Aya’s panic. A white blur darted from the alley and straight towards her. She fell onto the hard ground with a yell as the blur hissed at her.

‘What are you doing here?’ Aya asked, recognising Yuki’s white coat. She rubbed her throbbing tailbone and winced at the pain.

She flinched when Yuki hiss. Her canines, sharp and menacing, glinted in her opened mouth. Aya blinked at the uncharacteristic reaction from the white cat. Yuki was normally docile and laidback, she had never hissed at Aya before. But as quick as it happened, the hostility vanished and Yuki’s mouth closed, hiding away her sharp teeth. Her ruffled coat smoothed down as she slinked forward and stood on hind legs to push her head against Aya’s cheek. A raspy tongue swiped against her skin. 

‘Okay, okay,’ said Aya. Her fingers scratched behind Yuki’s ear who continued to lick her face. She picked up Yuki. A groan escaped Aya as she got to her feet. ‘That’s going to hurt in the morning.’ 

Aya traipsed the rest of the way home and tried to push from her mind the increasingly odd things that happened involving the white cat in her arms. She knew she had been followed by that man earlier. She had definitely heard the panicked cry that sounded like someone was drowning

She definitely did not have a cat flap in her apartment. 

***

The incident in the alley lingered in Aya’s mind. She watched Yuki for anything close to the hostile behaviour she exhibited that night, but there was none. Her other two cats tended to give Yuki a wide berth. The same couldn’t be said about Yuki and her. Every moment Aya was in the apartment, Yuki made her presence known. She sat in Aya’s lap when she painted. She slept in Aya’s bed, stretched out on top of her chest like a rumbling electric blanket. She got in the way of Aya’s feet when she moved from one room to the next. It was all very cat-like behaviour. Nothing odd about that at all.

What was odd was Aya finding Yuki sitting at the entrance of the alley every weeknight on her way home from work. Her apartment still didn’t have a cat flap. Kuro and Fuku were indoor cats and didn’t go out. She was seriously beginning to doubt her sanity when it came to Yuki.

And then there was the woman with white hair that haunted her thoughts. She found herself doodling in the margins of her notebooks at work, lost in trying to capture that enigmatic expression. Every free moment that wasn't spent at work, she was in her studio, sketches drawn and canvas painted with the same subject. She wasn’t able to stop. 

It wasn’t just Yuki who followed her whenever she went into her studio. Lately a daunting feeling started to accompany her and she would pause on the threshold of the room, feet hesitating to step through. The feeling wasn’t from the white-haired woman that filled her waking and sleeping moments, but from the endless hours spent creating with a single-minded, dogged determination with nothing to show for.

She had rent to pay and her temp job was due to finish in four months, and her agent hadn’t found any buyers for her last series of paintings. The market for contemporary surrealism wasn’t exactly teeming with offers. No one wanted dark, surrealist paintings rooted in Japanese mythology on their dining room walls. It didn’t exactly fill anyone with joy like the animations of Hayao Miyazaki. 

Her personal and career problems were ever present, and would remain if she didn’t sell anything. The inclusion of an unusual cat in her life didn’t expand her problems anymore than they already were. But there was something about Yuki that didn’t sit right with Aya. It tickled at the back of her head. It was in the way Yuki would stare at the paintings of the woman with a cocked head, tilting this way and that as if she was really examining the works of art. 

That was ridiculous, Aya thought.

She rolled over in bed and punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape. She froze at the flash of golden eyes melting like molten metal into cool sapphire and bright yellow. Silhouetted in the dark door between her bedroom and the hallway, Yuki padded into her room and jumped up on the bed. The tales her mother used to tell her as a child came to mind. The ones about the _bakeneko_ , cats who have lived for so many years they became warped and turned into _yōkai_. Benevolent or malevolent or with agendas of their own, her mother had said, the _bakeneko_ should be avoided at all costs.

The snowy cat rubbed her furry face against Aya’s cheek and curled up into the space beneath her chin. A raspy tongue licked her neck and an involuntary giggled bubbled from her chest. Her earlier unease fading. She scratched Yuki's fur and was rewarded with a grumbling purr.

Sleepiness overcame Aya as Yuki purred like a lullaby. Her eyes closed as she let her mind drift. She always likened falling asleep as having one foot just over the edge of the cliff of consciousness and with a well-timed fall, she would plunge into dreams, or an ill-timed trip and she would jerk back to wakefulness. 

It was on the cusp of sleep in that shadowy space between consciousness and unconsciousness that she heard the voice for the first time. A whispering sibilant sound that soothed her straight to sleep. 

***

Aya burrowed her face into her pillow. It was warm and delightfully soft. A few more minutes and she would have to wake up for work. She sighed and tightened her arms around the waist she held, her own legs sliding between a pair of bare legs. 

Waist? Legs? Aya blinked awake. Her eyes grew wide as she realised that her pillow was, in fact, an expanse of smooth skin belonging to someone’s back… Someone who had not been in her bed when she had fallen asleep last night. 

‘W-wh-who…?’ Aya shuffled backwards in her tiny single bed, barely getting any words out as she tugged the blankets with her.

The breath in her throat hitched as more bare skin was revealed. Aya’s eyes trailed down to the dip of a waist, following up a sloping hip to a full, pear-shaped bottom that had her ripping her gaze away from the very naked woman to the ceiling. 

The sound of a body shifting against her bedsheets had Aya backing into the wall. Her eyes stayed fixed firmly on the ceiling. She flinched at the first touch of fingers beneath the underside of her jaw and a thumb on her chin. She swallowed and allowed herself to be coaxed to look down at whoever the hand belonged to. 

Aya grew breathless at the blue and yellow irises that seemed to stare right into her very soul. A smile curled at the corners of the woman’s mouth, lip parting just a little to reveal sharp canines. Her heart stilled as she took in the long white hair that draped over the woman’s left shoulder. ‘Y-you’re the woman in my paintings.’ 

The smile grew wider and the thumb that kept Aya’s chin in place smoothed over her bottom lip. If it was possible, steam would have issued from her ears as she was held captivated by this mysterious woman. The same one who haunted her days and nights, and should not exist outside her paintings.

‘I must be dreaming,’ Aya mumbled against the errant thumb. There was no way there was a naked woman in her bed, let alone the one that had been the subject of her paintings for nearly a month. ‘Definitely, definitely dreaming.’ 

‘Keep telling yourself that Aya, but it’s not going to come true.’ The woman’s voice was rich and smoky, and coupled with a finely raised eyebrow was enough to scramble Aya’s brain. ‘And you’re going to be late for work if you don’t get out of bed soon.’ 

Aya blinked blankly at the woman. Work? She reached over the woman unthinkingly for her phone near the edge of her bed. Eight. ‘Damn it, I’m late!’ 

‘Better run along.’ The woman’s smile turned sly as Aya realised the position she was in. Hands held flat on either side of the woman’s head, trapping her between her arms. 

Aya leapt from the bed and away from the woman. A blush coloured her cheeks pink as she caught sight of more of the woman’s naked form. For a moment, Aya floundered unable to decide between getting ready to work and wanting to find out how this woman had found her way into her bed.

‘Just go to work,’ said the woman with an eye roll. She pulled her legs to her chest and curled up in the bed, eyes already falling closed. ‘I’ll be here when you get back.’ 

‘Um, okay, that sounds good.’ Aya nodded and ran out of her bedroom. She stopped abruptly in the hallway. ‘Where the hell is Yuki?’

***

It was easy to say that Aya was distracted. She hadn’t been able to concentrate on work to the point that she was checking her watch every five minutes. She had been ready to go home the moment she’d arrived at work. When she had been able to focus for more than five minutes, her mind drifted to the woman. The completely, stark naked woman she had woken up spooning. 

Had she unwittingly depicted _yūrei_ in her sketches and paintings? Aya had always been careful to be abstract in what she painted, very much aware of the dangers of painting _yūrei-zu_ and accidentally bringing vengeful ghosts and demons to life. The end of work couldn’t have arrived sooner. As soon as it hit six o’clock, Aya logged off her computer and ran to the elevators before anyone could stop her. She needed to get home. Now. The commute home felt entirely too quick and slow all at the same time. It was six-thirty by the time Aya made it to the alleyway and like clockwork, she found Yuki waiting for her and sitting like a sentinel at the entrance. 

She crouched down and gave the cat a quick scratch-hello. ‘Would you believe that you’re not even the weirdest thing to happen to me today?’ 

Yuki shook herself and led the way back, the tip of her tail flicked lazily from right to left. It didn’t take long to reach her apartment. The moment she opened the door, the cat shot straight inside. Aya hesitated, hand on the door handle, realising that she had left a total stranger inside her home for the entire day. She had also left the door unlocked. Aya groaned internally at her recklessness. 

‘There’s no point prolonging the inevitable,’ she muttered and walked inside. She poked her head into her tiny kitchenette to find it exactly as it was when she had left for work this morning. Her bathroom too, except for the appearance of another used towel. The bedroom was empty of the woman, but not of her possessions. 

Aya walked into her studio to find Yuki on the stool she sat on when she worked at her easel. She frowned. There was something wrong with Yuki’s eyes. They shimmered a glowing gold that seemed to infuse the cat’s entire body until it became featureless. An amorphous blob without form or shape took its place, growing in size, stretching and pulling and illuminating the whole room in blinding white light that had Aya closing her eyes.

When she opened her eyes, the same woman from this morning was sitting on the stool in place of her cat. A furious flush ignited across Aya’s face and she ran from the studio and into her bedroom. She grabbed the bathrobe off the back of her door, ran back into the studio, and threw the robe at the woman. 

There had been a part of her that had, desperately, wished that this morning’s events had been the overactive imagination of a lonely, broke artist. But no, the naked woman was very much a reality.

A woman who had been her cat just moments before. 

The woman — Yuki? — tugged the robe off her head, long hair looking artfully ruffled. She looked at the robe in her hand. ‘What am I supposed to do with this?’

‘You put it on! To cover—’ Aya waved her hands in front of her body. Her brown eyes dipped below Yuki’s chin and she dragged her gaze back up to find a sly, teasing smirk directed at her. 

‘See something you like?’ Yuki teased as she shrugged on the robe, leaving the sash untied. She sat more comfortably on the stool and rested her feet on the footrest. 

Aya’s blush grew in intensity. She shook her head and took a careful step forward. ‘Are you really my cat?’ 

Yuki shrugged her shoulder and the robe slipped down a fraction. ‘Yes and no.’ 

The initial shock of seeing the transformation was wearing away, replaced by curiosity at the _being_ in front of her. If it had been malevolent, it would have done something much earlier than now. That was something Aya was sure of. A childhood of encountering things not of this world had taught her that. She stopped in front of the stool, a foot of space between her and Yuki’s bent knees. 

‘What are you?’ asked Aya. The itch to draw started up again. The way Yuki’s hair fell across her eyes looked perfect in the light of the setting sun that came in through the living room window. ‘Demon? _Yōkai?_ Spirit? Goddess?’ 

Yuki leaned her elbow on her knee and cocked her head at Aya. ‘All of them and something more. Although, I do quite like the sound of goddess.’ 

‘Is that why you’ve been appearing in my dreams? Why I’ve been painting you non-stop?’

‘No idea.’ Yuki shrugged and yawned widely.

‘But if you’re a… Goddess, then you must know.’

‘There are things in the world and not of this world that remain a mystery, even to a being like me.’ Yuki reached up and tapped her a finger on Aya’s forehead.

Realisation hit Aya and her mouth dropped open. ‘The night I was followed, you were there.’ 

Yuki hummed, but was examining the nails on her right hand rather than looking at Aya. She turned her hand this way and that. ‘You know I was there.’ 

‘What happened to the man?’

‘Don’t ask something you don’t want the answer to.’ A flash of irritation appeared in Yuki’s eyes, but it disappeared quickly, replaced by resignation. ‘You need to be more careful walking home at night. It was a good thing I was around.’ 

Aya’s mouth opened, but she closed it. Yuki was right. She had been lucky. She didn’t actually want to know what happened to the man. Her imagination had already filled in the details that night.

But that didn’t explain why a deity who could turn into a cat was sitting in the middle of Aya’s studio. ‘Why are you here?’ 

‘Because you’re nice to cats,’ replied Yuki simply. She brushed the hair out of her face with the back of her hand, in a perfect impersonation of a cat grooming itself. 

‘I don’t even like cats.’

Yuki raised an eyebrow at Aya and jerked her head to the side, mouth forming a pout. ‘Yes, you told me as much before.’

Aya didn’t know what compelled herself to do what she did next, only that it felt natural to do so. The pout had Aya reaching instinctively for Yuki’s face, hand sliding along her delicate jaw, caressing the soft skin just below ear. The woman melted beneath her touch, eyes closing, neck stretching for easier access in a familiar action that reminded Aya of a cat. 

‘Me being nice doesn’t equate to being visited by a goddess. _’_

Yuki moved her head away from Aya’s scratches. ‘You took in Kuro and Fuku and you’re nice to cats.’ 

‘That’s it?’ 

‘Yep, that’s all it takes sometimes.’ 

‘I don’t know what that means,’ said Aya as she ran a hand through her hair. 

‘It just means that I’ll be around for a bit.’ 

And that was how Aya found herself, not with a new cat in her life, but with a cat goddess for a roommate. 

***

‘Why do you look so stressed?’ Yuki asked one day. She was lounging lazily on the sofa, leg swinging from the edge, in an imitation of her tail had she been in cat form.

Aya sighed and sat down on the sofa next to Yuki’s head, who promptly shuffled up to rest her head on Aya’s lap. ‘My temp job’s ending in two weeks, so I’ll have to start applying for another job.’ 

‘You’ll find something…’ Yuki trailed off as her eyes closed, a rhythmic purr erupted from her chest when Aya sank her fingers into her hair to massage her scalp. 

‘Yeah, I guess.’

Aya continued to massage Yuki’s head as she thought about her options. Three months had gone so quickly. Three months since Yuki revealed herself to Aya. 

Yuki spent less time in her cat form and more time in human form. She insisted on continuing to sleep in Aya’s bed and each night Aya found herself wrapped in Yuki’s arms. She would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the company and the contact. It had been hard to admit, but she had been a little touch starved.

Now touch wasn’t a problem. Yuki, even in human form, still very much acted like a cat. She still got in Aya’s way, which had expanded to the outside world when they went for walks or shopped together. If she wasn’t modelling for a painting, she was sitting next to Aya on a stool of her own with her head resting on Aya’s shoulder. She still waited for Aya at the entrance of the alley every weeknight to walk her home. 

Her life had become a lot brighter since Yuki had come into it. Sure, she used up all of Aya’s bath bombs and nice shower gels, only ate chicken and fish, and demanded attention whenever Aya was doing something. But she had laughed more in the last three months than she had in the six years since she graduated university. At first it had caught her unawares, the way she would find herself staring at Yuki, pencil or paintbrush poised above paper or canvas, but forgetting entirely what she wanted to capture. Aya would watch Yuki and when she was found out, Yuki would smile brightly at her and it would fill her with more warmth than she felt deserving of. 

Yuki sat and extracted Aya’s hands from her hair. She glared at Aya with mock annoyance. ‘Stop that, you’re distracting me from having an actual conversation with you.’ She settled down and squeezed an arm between Aya’s back and the sofa, and enveloped her into a hug. ‘What do you mean “I guess”?’

‘I was hoping I would have sold a few paintings by now.’ Aya shook her head and shrugged. ‘It’s nothing, I knew it was going to be hard when I chose this path, but finding a new job means sacrificing time I could use to paint.’ 

‘Would selling paintings and painting full-time make you happy?’ 

Aya looked down at Yuki whose expression had only got more serious. ‘Well, yeah, it would. I would finally be doing something I love everyday.’ 

Yuki nodded and hugged Aya harder. 

***

Aya jolted in her seat, almost swiping a black streak across her canvas at the shrill ring of her phone. She hopped off her stool and picked up her phone from the floor. She frowned at the caller ID. Oyinlola Chukwu. It was unusual for her agent to call on a Sunday. 

‘Hi Lola—’

‘Ayame Ito! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had started a new project!’ 

She jerked her phone away from her ear as Oyinlola screamed through the phone. She heard snippets of ‘It’s beautiful!’, ‘You lied to me! I asked you two months ago if you were working on something new!’, and ‘When can I see it in person?’. Yuki sat up from where she was napping on the sofa with an annoyed frown at being woken up. 

‘Woah, Lola stop one moment!’ Aya cried into her phone. She swore she heard the two words that she had been waiting to hear for years. ‘What do you mean there’s an interested buyer?’

‘Interested _buyers_.’ 

Aya went quiet and the world around her faded for a moment before it came rushing back with sharp clarity. Her next words tumbled out with a shuddering breath. ‘W-which piece?’

‘Seriously Aya, where is your head today? It’s the one in the photo you sent me last week!’

‘I didn’t send you any photos.’ She turned on the loudspeaker and scrolled through her messages and emails. There was nothing. 

‘Okay, you need to get some rest, because you’re obviously painting too hard,’ said Oyinlola jokingly. ‘But seriously, the buyers loved the photo I showed them of your painting with the woman looking over her shoulder. One of them even said they would like a whole collection and even talked about a gallery exhibit!’ 

‘The one with the woman?’

‘Let me know when you’re free next week and we can talk about it more.’ Oyinlola screeched in excitement again. ‘I want you to tell me all about this new project and your inspiration!’

The call ended as suddenly as it started and all Aya could do was stare down at her phone blankly. The conversation had only been two minutes, but she was stunned. Buyers? The painting of the woman looking over her shoulder? She turned to Yuki who was more alert now and was biting her lips. 

‘Did you do this?’ asked Aya with wide eyes. Her hands shook as her pulse raced with every step she took towards Yuki. ‘Is this some weird goddess thing you did to make it happen? Tell me the truth, please.’ 

‘Yes, I did _send_ the photo to your agent,’ started Yuki, eyes turning serious. She stood up and cupped Aya’s face in her hands. ‘That’s all I did. Everything else that stemmed is not my doing. It’s all you.’

Aya’s mouth dropped open as the meaning of her call with Oyinlola struck her like a hammer to her head. ‘So that call was real? Someone really wants to buy my art?’ 

Yuki nodded, voice quiet as she added, ‘they do.’ 

Happiness welled up in Aya like overflowing water. She stared up at Yuki in disbelief and awe. The hands on her face were gentle and warm, the soft look in Yuki’s eyes and the smile on her lips threatened to overwhelm Aya with so much love and affection that her heart felt full to bursting. Confusion tempered Aya’s happiness and she held onto Yuki’s. This was everything she wanted, then why did this feel like goodbye? Sudden fear gripped her that Yuki would disappear now that she had reached her goal. Four months wasn’t a long time to know someone, but it was enough for Yuki to burrow her way into Aya’s heart and for the thought of goodbye to hurt. 

‘You’re not leaving are you?’ Aya blurted. ‘I’m not ready for you to leave.’ 

A tremulous smile appeared on Yuki’s lip. ‘I’m not ready too.’ 

‘But you’re still leaving?’ 

‘Not if you don’t want me to.’ It was whispered like a promise and brought to life in the sliver of space between them. ‘I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me.;’

Aya’s heart thudded heavily in her chest as elation soared inside her. ‘I don’t want you to leave.’ 

‘I don’t want to either.’ 

‘Yeah?’ Aya smiled. She craned her head up as Yuki leaned down. The gentle pressure of soft lips against her own had Aya gasping in relief.

She wound her arms around Yuki’s neck and laughed as she was lifted off her feet, thinking that she would have to change her opinion on not liking cats. 

***

Aya walked around the gallery, champagne glass in hand as she smiled and waved at the guests. She stopped in front of the largest canvas in the room. It was the main work in the collection. It was also the first painting she had ever painted for this series. Unlike most of the other pieces where she had a live model, this this piece was drawn and painted with only the image in her mind as reference. 

Arms slid around Aya’s waist and she was pulled into a hug from behind. She turned in the arms to find Yuki, blue and yellow eyes sparkling in the gallery’s spotlights. Aya flicked a long strand of Yuki’s black hair with her finger, nose scrunching up at the difference in colour since she last saw it this morning. 

‘I’ll change it when we get home tonight.’ 

Aya leaned up and kissed Yuki’s mouth lightly. ‘Good, I like it better when it’s white.’ 

Yuki smiled widely, revealing her slightly longer than human canines. She turned to the painting on the wall. ‘So what do you call this one?’ 

‘This one?’ Aya took in the sweeping line of the woman’s bare back. The luscious lips shaped into a curling smirk and painted with a mix of reds and whites. The brilliant blue and shining yellow of the woman’s different coloured eyes felt alive as she stared out from the painting. The thin, individuals brush lines of long, cascading white hair seemed to glow and glimmer in the light.

‘This one’s called, “The Goddess”.’


End file.
